Coffee and Orange Juice
by sweet-and-simple
Summary: Lambo treats his two lovers in two completely different ways.  He can't help but be confused when they switch.  RL 56L RL56
1. Breakfast!

There were arms wrapped solidly around his waist and a head resting on his chest when he swam to consciousness.

Peeking emerald eyes open, he blearily focused in on his surroundings, disgruntled to have his internal alarm clock (instilled in him after 11 years of stalking a man – or baby – who somehow survived on cat naps and liked to viciously awake anyone else still sleeping by the time said cat naps were over) go off – as usual – at 5 in the morning.

Whatever the definition for a 'morning person', he did _not_ fit the description.

Nonetheless, despite wanting to _pretend_ that he could fall back asleep and therefore cuddle right back down into the warm nest of limbs that interwove him until a _decent _hour, he gently untangled himself from the body parts, murmuring an 'I got to go make breakfast' when he met momentary – yet unbreakable – resistance.

Finally, he managed to escape and slipped on his cow-print, thigh-length robe, cinching it around his waist.

He shuffled and stumbled into the kitchen, reminiscing on the old days where he could sleep in till noon, take hour-long naps throughout the day, and be tucked in bed by 8 at night…

Oh, what he'd give to be his five-year old self… _sometimes_…

It just happened to be one of _those_ times.

He managed to make breakfast without any injury to himself, the dishes, or the kitchen in general, despite the fact that his mind and limbs were far from agreeing with being active.

At exactly a quarter to six – the coffee just done, the breakfast of Italian sausage, scrambled eggs, eggs sunny-side-up, cinnamon rolls, bacon, toast, and frittatas complete and set out on three different plates; one plate yellow, the next blue, and the third green – a man, dressed immaculately in a black Armani suit complete with Italian loafers and a fedora adorned with a yellow ribbon pressing down on his jet black locks, wordlessly took his place behind the yellow plate, his plate being without the cinnamon roll and with the eggs sunny-side-up, a cup of coffee sitting demurely to its side.

Without even a thank you, he delved into his food, his obsidian gaze hidden by the rim of his fedora.

He made very certain to glare balefully at the man. If only he could burn a hole through his head with his hateful glower…

He found the thought deeply entertaining; he even chuckled at it.

The sound of mirth earned him the man's spiteful attention.

"What are you laughing at, you stupid cow?"

"Goodness, Reborn…" He sighed, his tone stating that it was oh-so obvious. "I'm laughing at _you_, you stingy bastard." He stood there, tiny chest puffed out with pride and slim shoulders thrown back, his chin tilted up as he gave off an aura of confidence and maliciousness. "You are _so_ lucky that I gave up my quest for your head in favor of being your lover."

It took another moment for his words to catch up with his (still) sleep-depraved mind and then another moment for him to remember that he was _not_ dreaming, ergo Reborn _would_ retaliate.

On the heels of that realization came instant and total fear great enough that he nearly pissed his pants; the reason he didn't was because of the fact that, more than anything else, Reborn would hold it over his head the rest of his life if he did so…

If he _had_ a 'rest of his life'…

Reborn, for a precious second, had that poker face on that said he was going to retaliate.

When his stony expression turned into a lewd smirk, he almost wished he _would_ retaliate…

"Now, now, _Lambo_…" A shiver ran up his spine at his name being spilled from those thinly-pressed and yet sexy-as-hell lips. "You had my head just last night… Down your throat… Up your ass… In your hands… Yes, you've had my _head_ for a while now, haven't you?"

Had it been possible, he would have died right then and there without even a 'farewell'. However, he was damnably too healthy to have a heart attack, a stroke, or a sudden and fatal illness; and he was too inexperienced for someone to abruptly consider him an absolute danger and murder him on the spot.

So he settled for sputtering incoherent words and phrases instead, his hands going from tugging at his hair to wiping at his watering eyes to trying to strangle Reborn.

By the time his thoughts were clear enough for him to remember the sniper rifle hidden in the cupboards and point it at the bastard, the safety off, Reborn had finished his breakfast and had made his way contently out the front door without the slightest rush.

Lambo would have tried to shoot him from the window, but a second voice interrupted his vengeful mood.

"Hey, calf."

His bloodlust-crazed mind oozed to give way to something equally as potent.

Tamed, he set the gun down next to the window and wandered back into the kitchen where a half-naked, tall, muscular man was rubbing his tone abs, his ice-blue eyes surveying his surroundings. His army-green pajama bottoms were riding low on his hips and his hair was held back by a folded, camouflage bandana with a '01' pin on it. In his free hand, he held a glass of orange juice.

"Hey, there you are." He pointed at Lambo's dish. "How come you haven't eaten yet?"

He smiled softly. "I thought I'd do the dishes first so I'd have less to do after I was done eating…" He sighed as he looked at the mountain of dishes. It was like that every breakfast and dinner.

The blonde followed his stare. "Hey, when I'm done eating, I'll do them." He made a 'come hither' gesture with his hand, eyes on Lambo again.

Like a tamed little bovine, he went to him without a fuss.

The man hooked a hand in the tie of his robe, pulling him flush to his bare chest. Pressed between his hips, Lambo could make out his 'morning wood'.

He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, feeling his breath catch and his heartbeat speed just that little bit more. The soreness that had been alive in his body after last night's activities was given new life and yet he could not bring himself to kill the excitement boiling in his belly. "That's n-nice of you, Colonello… unlike _some_ people…" A stingy bastard to be specific… A black-Armani-suit-wearing stingy bastard to be a little more specific… _Reborn_ to be exact.

Colonello smirked, fondling Lambo's ass with obvious intent. "Hey, I'm a nice guy… most of the time."

Lambo laughed huskily. "Mmm… m-most of the time…"

"I can't decide which I wanna do first: you or breakfast." Colonello looked thoughtfully from the food to Lambo's wanton expression and then down to his own problem. His devilish grin was only at par with Reborn's. "Hey, I've got an idea…"

As it turned out, Lambo still ended up doing all the dishes… and then he ended up taking a shower… and then a bath.

He could _still_ feel the food lodged in… _uncomfortable_ places.


	2. Dinner!

Lambo was accustomed to making late-night dinners.

After all, Reborn was the advisor of the Vongola family and Colonello worked for the COMSUBIN in mafia land; neither of them ever came home any earlier than 11 at night, if they were lucky. At latest, they didn't come home for weeks.

Tonight was one of the _extremely, unusually _lucky nights where Lambo would have to have dinner ready at 9:30 sharp. Unless something unexpected happened, both of his lovers would be back at or around that time.

He had steak pizzaiola, garlic bruschetta, and cannelloni going, pies roasting in the oven as he cooked.

At exactly 9:29, the food was set out. There was a glass of orange juice at Colonello's plate, a cup of coffee (with hemlock) at Reborn's plate, and a tall glass of milk at his own.

Really, he thought to himself with pride as he set the pies down in the fridge to cool, his lovers were only too lucky to have him.

At 9:30 on the dot, just seconds after praising himself, a man came wordlessly into the room, completely ignoring him as he took his place at the yellow plate.

The only thing that stopped Lambo from getting pissed at the fact that he hadn't even gotten anything such as a 'hello', 'I'm home', or even 'thanks for dinner', was the fact that he _wasn't_ looking at Reborn.

"Colonello…?" He frowned at the blonde continued to ignore him, eating from Reborn's plate as if it was only natural and drinking the coffee in a gentlemanly fashion unlike Colonello's distinct nature of eating as if he was dying of malnutrition.

Colonello occasionally drank coffee, but only if he had something to stay up late, or get up early, for. Even exhausted, he still didn't act so silent, though.

"Hey, Colonello!" He felt an uncomfortable familiarity in the situation.

Why did he feel as if he was looking at Reborn?

"Hey, you stingy bastard, I'm talking to you!" He did something he never would have done to Colonello; he picked up the salt shaker behind him and threw it with all his might at the man's head.

Lifting the fork he had been using, the salt shaker was launched right back at Lambo, catching him directly in the center of his forehead and knocking him to the ground.

He couldn't even be bothered to cry. He just sat up, stared at the man, and tried to figure out what to say.

"G-Goodness…" He uttered at last. "… What _happened_, Reborn?"

He was finally recognized by the blonde, his icy blue eyes boring into Lambo with overly-familiar annoyance/carelessness.

"Verde happened." His stony expression did little to hide the venom in his tone.

"… Oh…"

"Did you honestly think I would overlook the hemlock?" Colonello – no, Reborn – had his coffee cup in hand and was staring into its depths. "Make me a fresh cup." He held out the cup, clearly demanding obedience.

"Make it yourself, you selfish asshole!"

Before Colonello – _Reborn_ – could retaliate, the apartment door slammed open and shut.

"Hey, I'm home!"

Reborn – _no_, Colonello – stepped into the kitchen, Reborn's Armani jacket tied thoughtlessly around his waist, his yellow vest sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the black tie wound around his head, most likely in placement of the bandana he was so familiar with wearing in his own body.

Reborn (_yes_, he finally got it right) was wearing his infamous poker face; nonetheless, Lambo could _feel_ his disgust.

Lambo felt himself melt inside, completely contrary to the fires or outrage Reborn always lit in him. "Welcome home, Colonello…"

"Hey, so you do know what's going on?"

He sighed. "Well, somewhat…" He glared at Reborn. "He didn't tell me much; only that Verde had something to do with it."

"Yeah." Colonello agreed, taking his place at the blue plate. "He was being a complete ass! Hey, calf." Colonello threw an inelegant arm over the back of his seat.

Lambo could only gawk at the sight; even knowing that it was Colonello instead of Reborn… it was still hard to see Reborn's body in such a state – so completely disheveled and crass.

"Yeah?"

Colonello made the 'come hither' gesture.

Lambo jerked himself towards the raven-haired man, slipping naturally into his lap when Colonello tugged him closer.

It was only when he was sitting down that he began to feel uncertain of himself.

For one, Colonello was right behind him… and yet right in front of him. For another, he was sitting on Reborn's lap with Reborn watching on with doubtless annoyance.

It was confusing.

Colonello pulled his plate from his own seat and placed it next to his own.

"Hey, I'll feed you and you'll feed me, kay?"

"Okay…"

It wasn't unusual, really… They had done it before and Reborn had always ignored them while they did so.

However, there was something to be said when he was technically feeding Reborn _while_ Reborn completely ignored them.

He was staring at the callous hitman while he fed Colonello; it was odd to feel that obsidian glare have the same affect on him as Colonello's original icy blue stare – that shiver was running up and down his back and his fingers were itching to delve into those jet black tresses.

Colonello caught the fork that had been aimed for his head, cutting a curt glare at Reborn.

"Don't do that while you're in my body." Reborn sniped. "It's disgusting."

Then again, it was also extremely weird to feel the magma-hot rage and hatred he only felt for Reborn bubble in his belly as he glared at Colonello's body – more directly, he stared into those icy blue eyes that were glaring past him into glowering obsidian eyes.

"Well, goodness… I'm _sorry_ that the _ever_ so great _bastard_ is offended by something as simple as eating!"

"Hey, he's got a point." Colonello offered a lopsided smirk that made Lambo's heart summersault; he had seen Reborn's smirks plenty of times, but seeing Colonello's smirk on Reborn's face…

His face heated up and he shifted uncomfortably.

Colonello, of course, felt it. Reborn, of course, noticed it.

Both pairs of eyes were consequently drawn to him.

Slowly, smirks grew on both opposing features.

"Hey, I think he likes this." As if to prove his point, Colonello dropped a hand between Lambo's thighs and gripped his growing hard-on without any warning.

Lambo yelped and then whimpered. It was Reborn's hand… and Colonello's technique.

His tongue swiped over his lips as he leaned back into his chest and let himself gasp as pleasure coiled in his loins.

Reborn came around the table and undid Lambo's shirt.

"Goodness, n-no one invited y-you…" Lambo whimpered as a deft hand pinched his nipples.

Colonello's face… Reborn's cruelty.

His thoughts were quickly swirling towards insanity.

"C-Colone-ello…" He whimpered, one hand snaking behind himself to wrap around the raven's shoulders as Colonello suckled at his throat. "R-Reborn…" His other hand tangled in golden blonde locks.

Someone – he was thinking Colonello because Reborn would never be so impish; and yet, he couldn't remember seeing Colonello move – swept the food from the table in one quick swipe.

Before he could even register that the floor was now slick with food, his bare back met the warm table surface – heated by the former dinner plates – and his shirt splattered against the cast aside steak pizzaiola.

Someone grabbed his pants and tore them off his legs – the act could have been accomplished by either of the two.

He stared up at them, familiar faces with flipped expressions, naked as the day he was born.

Damn him for choosing that day of all days not to wear underwear…

Reborn, always a man to savor, started at his left ankle and (licked, kissed, sucked, bit, nipped, nuzzled, tickled) worked his way up with utter patience to his knee, to his waist, to his belly button (yes, skipping entirely his rising problem), and upwards.

Colonello, always so straightforward, skipped the foreplay without a sound and lifted Lambo's hips off the table, his head ducking between his thighs, and his tongue – _oh, goodness, goodness, goodness, goodness, goodness…_

_Goodness, goodness, goodness, goodness…_

_Goooooooodness… Goodnessssssssssss… _

His tongue did wonderfully sinful things and Lambo wasn't certain whether to scream out Reborn's name or Colonello's as that deft muscle went about its duty.

He settled for making incoherent whimpering sounds that bordered on a wail.

Reborn was pinching and rubbing his nipples, turning them into rosy pebbles that rested painfully on Lambo's chest.

Colonello's head was bobbing further down his body, making Lambo's vision fuzzy and uncertain.

And while his body was on fire, his thoughts were in turmoil; because Reborn wasn't one for giving head to his two other male lovers and Colonello was an impatient lover who liked to make it hurt – just a little – for everyone.

It was Reborn's mouth around his cock, Reborn's obsidian eyes glued on his face as his orifice suckled and licked along his length until he was painfully hard.

It was Colonello's lips at his nipples, his icy blue eyes also watching Lambo. His one hand was stroking his one ass cheek, his rough fingertips padding teasingly over the round flesh.

He shut his eyes and gave himself away to pleasure, wordlessly admitting to himself that looking at them and trying to connect features to actions was only going to confuse him in the end.

When Colonello tongued his entrance and Reborn slid his cock down his throat, Lambo pretended that it was _Reborn's_ cock – as in the body – choking him and _Colonello's _tongue – as in the body – invading him.

He pretended and pretended and pretended…

It became hard to pretend when Reborn was still jacking off in his mouth and Colonello was balls-deep in his body.

It was just as hard to pretend when the two men switched places.

And it was near impossible to pretend when they decided that 2 in 1 _was_ a wonderful thing.

"AAAAAH! R-REBORN! C-C-COLON-NN-ELLO-OOOO!"

It was _extremely _**hard**.

Five in the morning the next day (or maybe the same day… Lambo couldn't exactly remember if they fell asleep before or after midnight), Lambo was happy to note that Colonello – the body – had his arms wrapped tightly around his waist and that Reborn – the body – had his head resting on Lambo's belly. Just the way it should be…

He was so marvelously happy…

"You both are such assholes! I'm only one man, can't you two screw each other over once in a while? If neither of you wake up in the next 10 seconds, I'm blowing this place up!... Goodness, fine! If that's how you want to be!" … _BOOOM!_

He kind of forgot to feel happy.

* * *

Author's Note: … The truth? … Not a clue.


End file.
